


We (Don't) Accept Each Other

by Hinalilly



Category: Free!, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crossover, Feels, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:32:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinalilly/pseuds/Hinalilly
Summary: Rin wants to be a hero.Haruka does not.Together, they’ll become more than either of them ever expected to be.(But first, they have to become friends.This is the story of that first step.)The BNHAxFree! crossover nobody asked for, but you're getting anyway.ForRinHaru Week 2017.





	We (Don't) Accept Each Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aenya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenya/gifts).



> **Disclaimer: I haven’t managed to catch up to the BNHA canon in full yet, so if any quirk is repeated/coincides with pre-existing ones in any way, it’s just that, a coincidence! Coincidence after coincidence…**
> 
> I wasn't really going to write anything for **[RinHaru Week](http://rinharuweek.tumblr.com)** (just sticking to fanart) due to lack of time, but this AU had too much information for me to convey it in a small drawing. I figured I could write it as a small oneshot, and... turns out I couldn't. It was _still_ way too much information for me to finish within the week! So I decided to condense the core setting as much as I could, and leave the way open for possible future additions (in which I would hopefully be able to include everything I've thought out for this story). I hope you're able to enjoy it anyway!
> 
> For **[Aenya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlOnFandoms)** , for helping me out with this fic, dragging me into the hell that is BNHA, and being generally awesome.

 

Haruka hated his quirk.

For years he’d been burdened by it, annoyed by it, always at the mercy of the constant annoyance it caused him in his everyday life, ever since it had manifested―who knows when. He couldn’t be entirely sure about it, with it being as silent and inconspicuous as it was. But once the effects had become undeniable, he’d known that he hated it. He would’ve been much happier being ordinary, being told he was quirkless, and having an excuse to slip by unnoticed through life, doing whatever he wanted however he wanted.

Haruka didn’t really want to be a hero.

But his quirk was a nuisance, a bother, a needless attention magnet, and it was imperative he learned how to control it.

With all the negativity and uncomfortableness that he harbored inside him every day of his life, every time it was necessary for him to take part in social interactions, it was only a wonder how he hadn’t managed to subconsciously push everyone he met away yet.

Maybe some part of him longed for companionship, somehow.

That’s what Makoto had said once.

Haruka thought it was the stupidest idea in the universe.

But Makoto had been there, somehow. And, back then, before Makoto's own quirk had manifested, Haruka hadn’t had any other explanation for it, so he’d resigned himself to the knowledge that he’d inevitably have to learn how to control it.

Haruka’s quirk had the potential for evil.

That’s what everyone said. They didn’t say it where Haruka could hear them, and sometimes they didn’t even use words to convey it, but Haruka knew anyway. Another downside of his quirk, of course.

Haruka didn’t really care about what other people thought of him. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t sure anymore―it wouldn’t make any sense that his quirk kept constantly giving him the feedback, otherwise.

He’d found out what it was when he was around 5 years old. Up until then, he had been blissfully unaware, happily going through his everyday life thinking that he was safe from any flashy powers that would grant him unwanted attention. But his quirk had undoubtedly manifested on time, alright―it only took him and his family a while to notice its effects.

Haruka wished he’d gotten a different quirk―something more awesome, like growing a fish tail or breathing underwater.

Life wasn’t so kind, though.

_“Enunciation,”_ the doctors had called it―the ability to project feelings onto others through spoken words. Haruka would’ve shrugged it off if it were that simple; he was a quiet boy already, and he only had to mind his words a little bit more than usual after finding out.

But Haruka was too young to be able to accurately control his power, and just a sigh could result in people flocking around him for support, or shuffling away from him uncomfortably, or putting a bunch of weaker-willed children into tears. All of which drew unwanted attention to him, inevitably.

Hence, Haruka had accepted to deal with the bother that was proper Hero Training. Perhaps, once he could grasp proper control of his quirk, he could convince everyone he met that his power was not that great, not that evil, no cause for worry or vigilance, and henceforth escape the duties and responsibilities of heroism. Maybe he could convince someone to take his quirk away, somehow.

Life wasn’t so easy, though.

Haruka had met nothing but suspicion as soon as his classmates had been introduced to his quirk. He couldn’t have cared less (he did prefer being left alone), but he hated the atmosphere of everyone expecting him to always, somehow, be influencing everything with his ability.

Whenever he got good marks. Whenever a teacher praised him. Whenever someone admitted defeat. Whenever he existed in the same space as them―everyone was always suspicious of Haruka. He was a threat, someone to be wary of, someone to be approached with caution.

Haruka hated that feeling. He hated being relied on, yes, but he hated being labelled as untrustworthy even more.

What he hated most, however, was his quirk being _praised._

And Matsuoka Rin had nothing but undiluted, unending praise for his ability.

Cheery, stubborn, competitive, completely unaware of other people’s personal space, Matsuoka Rin seemed to be immune to Haruka’s attempts at pushing him away. (He was good practice, yes, but the effect of Haruka’s “Leave me alone”’s never seemed to stick.) He seemed to always be there at the right place at the right time, ready to throw an arm around Haruka’s shoulder, in spite of all the half-lidded glances and wary looks around them, to ask him about his training progress and to reassure him of just how _amazing_ and overpowered Haruka’s Enunciation was.

Haruka felt personally attacked by Life for putting Matsuoka Rin in his way.

And because Life wasn’t fair, Matsuoka Rin’s quirk was the _worst_ personal offense Haruka could think of.

_“Liquid manipulation.”_

Matsuoka Rin could command _water._

Haruka had sat dumbstruck, hit with an immense hurt and disappointment and _jealousy_ , when Matsuoka Rin had revealed his quirk during the entrance exam. It was everything Haruka could’ve possibly dreamed of―a completely drawback-free, active manipulation of water.

Matsuoka Rin was proud of it, but he never missed an opportunity to mention just how much better and more useful Haruka’s quirk was, how his own had limited uses and applications compared to Haruka’s, how he’d love to be able to see it in action, all in spite of Haruka’s inner anger.

It was insulting.

Haruka hated it, hated how much Matsuoka Rin seemed to love his quirk when Haruka had nothing but loathing for it, and how little he seemed to think of his own, when all Haruka had ever wished for was to have an ability like Rin’s for his own.

And because Matsuoka Rin seemed to never get tired of being a walking offense to him, Haruka was stuck with him as his self-appointed rival. Always there to challenge him, wanting to team up with him, getting into fights with other students over him (even when Haruka had never asked him to speak up for him, nor wanted him to), always going overboard and doing unnecessary things for the sake of silly ideals like friendship, or the romantic idea of heroes who always offered help, regardless of it being requested or not.

But the thing that annoyed Haruka the most about Matsuoka Rin wasn’t Matsuoka Rin himself.

No matter how hard Haruka tried, he never, _ever_ seemed to be able to make Matsuoka Rin go away entirely.

On good days, Haruka would put his training to use on him, using his power to discourage Matsuoka from teaming up with him, or trying to convince him that his quirk wasn’t as big a deal as Matsuoka seemed to think it was, or simply to try and get him to go talk with someone else. And it worked, of course―Haruka’s power was indeed strong, stronger even the more Haruka himself felt towards the feelings he tried to project on others. But Matsuoka seemed to be unable to be deterred completely; he always came back, without fail, always grinning proudly and smiling brightly and flaunting that amazing quirk of his.

_Aquarius_ was the hero name he’d chosen, of course. Haruka couldn’t help but frown darkly at the sheepish smile Matsuoka had flashed at the class when everyone had approved of it with cheers and claps. Matsuoka always spoke of his big dreams, of his aspirations of being a world-class hero―someone who faced and defeated villains, who fought to protect the peace not only of Iwatobi, but of the entire human race, too. And Haruka frowned, because he knew―Matsuoka had the drive, the motivation, the charisma, and the strength it took to get there. With his quirk, he could accomplish everything he wanted.

Unlike Haruka.

All Haruka had ever wanted was peace and quiet, but not even a few months into training and he had already unwillingly amassed a secret audience of pro heroes breathing at his neck to hire him―and with Matsuoka’s own insistence for partnering up (he seemed absolutely convinced that Haruka’s chosen hero name was a nod to his own, an unspoken promise to work together in the future), Haruka couldn’t think of a more ill-fated scenario for his future ambitions to be realized.

Thus Nanase Haruka, _Siren_ for his fellow hero-wannabes, unbelievably spent his school years trying his best to hone his skills, dutifully committing to training and augmenting his power, carefully designing a suit that would best benefit the channeling of his quirk, all for the sake of doing the exact opposite everyone expected of him.

Perhaps he was a little bit driven by spite. But it was already punishment itself that the only escape from his own powers was that very same power itself.

Time went by, however, and Haruka began to fear his ambitions might not become realized after all.

No matter how strong he became, no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t seem to shake Matsuoka off. After so many years of being told how amazing and fearsome his quirk was, Haruka began to doubt if he was really as powerful as everyone seemed to think he was.

His biggest fear, however, was having to confront his own feelings about it.

After becoming able to control his quirk’s activation at will, Haruka had come to understand, better than anyone else, that his own thoughts and feelings, conscious or not, were the biggest driving force behind the effectiveness of his power.

And that meant that his inability to rid himself of Matsuoka Rin lay not in his quirk, not in Matsuoka’s own stubbornness, but within _himself._

 

_I think I can be your friend because you want me to, Haru-chan,_ was what a 5-year-old Makoto had once told him. Haruka had huffed and willed him to go away, but Makoto had smiled and stayed.

A few weeks later, when Makoto had manifested as _“Impervious,”_ the simple, generally useless ability to be nothing else but immune to others’ quirks (an ability which Makoto had welcomed gladly―Haruka had never bothered to ask why), Haruka had gained renewed confidence in his ability and resolve to rid himself of any and all unwanted attention, and his decision to pursue hero training, cemented.

 

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I think,” a confident, grinning, shining-star-on-the-rise 15-year-old Matsuoka Rin had said out loud once, in the middle of a chase-and-capture training exercise, after Haruka had failed to shake him off for the third time, “you want me around you more than you think, Haru.”

Haruka would rather sign himself to a high-profile hero agency for life without leave than letting Rin think he was right.

But, like with all things Matsuoka Rin related, Haruka wasn’t going to just be able to go with the flow and hope for things to go his way.

That’s how he’d found himself facing off against Rin, eating lunch with Rin, getting into fights for Rin, teaming up with Rin. It was all so inconvenient, and so annoying, but just like during training, Rin seemed to have become mostly immune to the effects of Haruka’s quirk. Maybe Haruka was getting weaker. Maybe he’d worn off his quirk’s efficiency on him, maybe it only had a limited amount of uses, maybe he was finally, finally being rid of it.

The weeks went by more peacefully than Haruka could have ever imagined they would, with his classmates growing more amicable, a lingering atmosphere of calm and stability having taken over the academy and Haruka himself. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could almost picture the sensation of drifting away on the surface of a pool.

But, be as it might, Life wasn’t done putting stones in Haruka’s way, and Matsuoka Rin was right.

Because Matsuoka Rin was requested for an internship with one of the biggest names in the world of heroes―and that meant, should he accept it, that he had to travel abroad for it.

Haruka was finally getting what he’d wished for.

But his quirk seemed intent on telling him that was not what he _wanted._

The moment the entire class had confirmed the rumor that one of their students was being offered a chance at internship abroad, and that that student was Rin, Haruka had practically been struck with the intense wave of clashing emotions around him―the strongest one being the vibrant, almost _shining_ sense of pride and pure happiness and excitement coming from Rin himself.

For the first time in his life, Haruka had no idea how _he_ felt.

The entire day was a whirlwind around him, with so much pride and jealousy and camaraderie and animosity clogging up the air, that he couldn’t even focus on his own head. Haruka forced himself to go blank, to shut it all out, not wanting to accidentally echo and project some of the more negative reactions to the news of Rin’s international recognition.

Rin was one step closer to fulfilling his dream, and Haruka was happy for him―he _should_ be happy for him.

But all Haruka could afford was to feel empty.

(He told himself it was for the best.)

 

That very same night, dressed in the most _pink_ pajamas Haruka had ever seen, Rin showed up at his bedroom door.

“I’m so nervous,” he said, standing right outside Haruka’s door, looking like a twig that might snap at the first gust of wind, “I have an interview tomorrow―it’s a video call, not too bad―but I can’t stop shaking― _pacing,_ I mean.”

“What do you want?” Haruka cut him off preemptively, hoping to save both of them from the embarrassment of having to hear Rin making poor excuses for himself.

“I can’t sleep,” Rin replied automatically, and then pouted at Haruka’s unprompted use of his quirk. “I was hoping,” he continued, mellowing down instantly, looking the most vulnerable and unguarded Haruka had ever seen him, “you could help me.”

“Go to sleep,” Haruka said firmly, breathing out with a sigh in defeat when Rin’s face lit up in a panic again.

“That’s not gonna work, idiot!” He yelled, and Haruka noticed the inner turmoil in him as he tried to fight the idea of going back to his room. Rin, on top of everything he already was (cheery, stubborn, competitive, bright, annoying, amazing) was _smart,_ and it wasn’t the first time he’d found a way to go around Haruka’s orders to still get what he wanted―and Haruka immediately regretted not being more specific with his wording.

The obvious happened.

Instead of leaving, Rin ran straight past Haruka into Haruka’s room, flopping on Haruka’s bed, head-first on Haruka’s pillow.

“It won’t work,” Rin groaned, voice muffled by the fluffed-up pillow, “I _know_ I have to sleep! But I’m so nervous I can’t _do_ it.”

Haruka, commendably, tried to make his annoyance at the situation as unnoticeable as possible.

“I thought, maybe,” Rin continued, still forced by Haruka’s power into a sleeping position, “you could, you know… help me calm down a little? You should be able to do that, right?” He asked, turning his head to the side, still working within the boundaries of Haruka’s order. “With your quirk.”

Haruka sighed the inconvenience out.

Closing the door, he walked to his bed, pushing Rin around (who only mildly complained with a soft “oof”) to be able to lay down on his own mattress before Rin ended up actually falling asleep on it. Once he was comfortably under the sheets, Haruka turned his head to stare straight at Rin’s face and, with a deep breath, he spoke softly, quietly, trying to recall that feeling of peace he felt whenever he dived into a pool.

“Calm down, Rin,” he said, lightly unfolding Rin’s grip on the sheets with his hand, and closing his eyes as he muttered softly. “Good night.”

The bed was warm, and Rin stopped shaking eventually. He breathed slowly, eyes closed, and the worried frown on his face disappeared after a few minutes.

Rin slept in what seemed like a peaceful bliss. Comfortably. And so did Haruka.

He wished they could’ve stayed like that for a while longer.

He shouldn’t have.

 

Rin was gone by the time Haruka woke up.

Haruka quietly resigned himself to the knowledge that Rin would probably leave as soon as his interview was over, without so much as a goodbye.

But Rin was there at homeroom, and the first words he spoke when someone asked him about his upcoming interview sent a chill down Haruka’s spine.

“I’m gonna stay,” he said simply, to the shock of everyone around him, Haruka included. “I want to stay, I think.”

Rin smiled weakly upon everyone’s baffled reactions, saying things like travelling abroad alone was scary, that he was comfortable at school, and that he felt like staying like that.

The entire class, even those (especially those) who had felt jealous of Rin’s chance in the first place, sounded disappointed. Their homeroom teacher asked for a word with Rin after class, before the interview took place. As for Haruka, the lessons went past like a blur.

Haruka spent the entire morning feeling a deep-rooted, gnawing feeling of _fear._

There was no logical reason for Rin to turn down such an amazing opportunity, fearsome lonely trip and all.

Except there was. There was an obvious reason why.

It was him. Haruka. It was _his_ fault. His stupid, annoying, burden of a quirk.

Rin’s mind had been changed because of _him._

Haruka hadn’t said anything at all. He had convinced himself that he didn’t care what Rin did―it was his decision, his future, and Haruka would finally get some of the peace and quiet he had wanted since forever.

And yet.

_He wished they could’ve stayed like that for a while longer._

And Rin was now answering to that wish.

His quirk really _was_ something to be feared, after all.

Haruka panicked.

The morning period was tense, more tense than it had ever been. Two students were sent to the infirmary on a sick stomach. One was suspended for shouting back at a teacher. One ran off between periods in tears. The reactions got progressively worse with each passing minute, as Haruka grew more and more self aware and afraid.

He was called aside by their homeroom teacher at the end of the third period. He was calmly asked if he was alright, if he needed a break―in Haruka’s mind, there was no difference between that and being told he was disrupting the class.

Haruka lied through his teeth. He was fine. No, he didn’t need a break. No, he wasn’t sick.

He had been training for a reason. And there was no better moment to put that training to serious, conscious, desperate work.

He spent the entirety of the fourth period focusing, glaring, picturing Rin in his head.

_Go to the rooftop at lunch. To the rooftop. At lunch. Meet me at the rooftop._

Haruka tried, frowned, glared. He got weird looks from their history teacher, but he paid her no mind. It didn’t seem to be working without him speaking the words out loud.

But it had, the previous night, it had worked. Haruka knew it was his fault―there was no other explanation for Rin changing his mind so suddenly, and yet to look so conflicted and torn and _sad_ about it. Haruka had to figure out what had happened, what had been different, how he had projected a subconscious feeling of wanting Rin to stay without having acknowledged it, without having said anything at all.

Haruka thought of everything he’d said, everything he’d done, thinking―

 

He’d held Rin’s hand. He had fallen asleep holding Rin’s hand.

 

Haruka wasn’t fond of personal contact, so he had never bothered to explore the boundaries of his quirk, but… if that was possible, then―

Without any regard for the mighty Hero deeds of the last 30 years, Haruka turned all of a sudden, staring firmly at Rin, who sat at the desk behind him, and placed his hand on top of Rin’s, halting his note-taking. Rin blinked at him, questioning.

_Meet me at the rooftop at lunch._

Rin’s eyes widened, in that sudden, open, serious way they usually did when he recognized Haruka using his power on him.

Haruka went back to his own notebook, but didn’t bother following the classes for the rest of the morning.

 

 

The rooftop was empty. Haruka had made sure to discourage everyone who had wandered there to have lunch. He waited, knowing the teachers would probably keep Rin busy for a while.

Rin opened the door with a worried expression on his face.

“You didn’t say anything,” was the first thing he said. Haruka nodded. “You didn’t say anything, but…”

“Rin,” Haruka spoke, urging Rin to listen to him. Rin quietened down instantly with a small frown. Haruka was aware of how much Rin disliked it when he did that, but this time, he really had something important to tell him, and he didn’t have any time to waste. “You should go.”

“Huh?”

“You should go―to the interview. On the internship. Abroad. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Haruka spoke with decision, his face drawn in a frown in concentration. Rin must have noticed, because he was staring at him in disbelief, confused.

Haruka was doing his best to block out his own quirk from activating.

“Haru―” Rin started, but Haruka cut him off again.

“You should go,” he repeated, concentrating a little more. “I wished you would stay. But you should go.”

Rin’s jaw dropped all of a sudden, and his eyes grew hazy with tears.

“It… it was you?”

“It was an accident,” Haruka spat out, fighting his inner urge to clam up and keep the worst of it to himself. He didn't want Rin to hate him, he didn't want Rin to think that he'd tried to sabotage his opportunity to realize his dream, but he _had_ to tell him. As much as it hurt, as much effort it took, he had to make sure Rin knew his worries and fears and second thoughts were not a product of his own heart, but  _Haruka's._ “I didn’t mean to―I thought I―”

Haruka got slammed suddenly by the full force of Rin throwing his entire body at him, arms around his neck, sobbing.

What hit Haruka most, though, was the torrent of feelings that Rin’s body was feeding him through his quirk.

_You cared about me after all._

_I’m so glad._

_I’ll do my best._

“I’ll show you...I’ll be the best Hero you’ve ever seen!”

With a nod, Haruka loosely hugged Rin back, a small smile blossoming on his face.

Quirk unconsciously activated, Rin’s tears bubbled upwards, towards the sky, and Haruka looked up to follow them with his eyes, the peace and quiet of the likes of the pool feeling closer than ever before.

 


End file.
